Guilty
by Persephone LoM
Summary: When one of Sam's teachers notices his bruises from a recent case, she immediately suspects child abuse and John Winchester is immediately investigated, and the boys are seperated and put in to seperate foster homes.


**Title: **Guilty

**Author: **Sylvia

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Supernatural or the actors or characters in it.

**Summary: **When one of Sam's teachers notices his bruises from a recent case, she immediately suspects child abuse and John Winchester is immediately investigated, and the boys are seperated and put in to seperate foster homes.

**Note: **Dean is 16, Sam is 12.

**XX**

Dean guarded his father as he shoveled in to the ground in a hurry, anxious to salt and burn the bones of a ghost known as, Henry Scalibar. Sam stood beside his brother, eyes wide and glancing around, worried the spirit would pop up in front of him.

"There!" Sam pointed by a tree where Henry stood watching them. Dean turned his head abruptly, but he was gone. He groaned. This ghost definitely liked playing games with them and messing with their heads.

"_I will never leave_!" He shouted, appearing next to John, who jumped back and grabbed his rifle from the grass. With a flick of his wrist, Henry watched John's rifle fly in to a tree. Dean aimed his gun at Henry Scalibar and John was thrown in to a head stone violently, knocked unconscious.

"Shit!" Dean called as he pulled the trigger just as Henry was turning. "Check on dad! I gotta finish this." Dean commanded, getting on to his knees and shoveling further in to the ground. Almost there. Sam didn't need to be told twice as he ran towards his fathers still body.

"Dad?" He asked hopefully, shaking his father. He felt for a pulse and a sigh of relief escaped his blue lips from the cold dark night.

"Is he okay!" Dean shouted over, not looking up. He grabbed the salt and poured it over the rotting corpse, feeling for the lighter in his pocket.  
"Yeah. Just unconscious." Sam responded. Deans eyes widened. His lighter wasn't there. He must've dropped it in all the craziness. He looked up towards his brother and saw the ghost of Henry Sacilbar right behind his litttle brother.

"Sammy, look out!" He screamed. Sam turned a moment too late because in one smooth motion, he flew across the grass and his head smashed in to the tree, his arm twisting as his body crumpled up. "NO!" Dean yelled in fear, forgetting about the lighter for a moment. If he wanted to help Sammy he needed this son of a bitch dead first. Permenantely that is. He spotted his lighter on the grass next to another headstone and jumped at it, quickly igniting it.

Dean crawled over to the smelling body and leaned forward. The spirit appeared next to him, not looking too happy.

"Burn, you son of a bitch." He dropped the lighter and jumped back as the fire quickly set up, watching the corpse turn to ash. Henry cried out before leaving the astral plane and getting sucked back in to his dead body. Not waiting for the fire to fade, Dean jumped up and sprinted towards his brothers fallen figure.

"Sammy." He knelt down and felt a steady pulse, allowing his eyes to close for a split second as the relief washed over him. Feeling for broken bones, he saw that his arm was bent, but not broken. It'd be aching in the morning though. He had a few bruises, but the worst one was on his stomach. "You're okay, kiddo."

"Dean." He heard his fathers voice coming up behind him.

"He's okay." Dean quickly assured, holding the twelve year old in his arms.

"Let's get back to the motel. I'll have to keep him home tomorow."

**XX**

The next morning, Sam was in pain when he woke up, but not as much when he'd woken up from his unconsciousness the night before.

"I want to go to school." Sam pouted.

"Nerd." Dean snorted, grabbing his backpack.

"I mean it!" Sam stood up, groaning in pain as he felt the cut on his stomach sting.

"That's why you're not going. And you don't want any teachers asking questions." John said, eating take out.

"Well, I don't think any of my teachers will be taking off my shirt!" He rolled his eyes.

"Mmm.. Ms. Sanderson." Dean licked his lips. Sam gave him a grossed out look.

"Fine, you can go. Just take it easy." John told his youngest son, watching the smile spread over his face.

"I swear, you're the biggest nerd." Dean walked out the door, Sam following suit.

"I'm not a nerd." He said when they got outside.

"Yeah okay.."

"Jerk." Sam muttered.

"Bitch." Dean backfired, grinning at the angry expression on his little brothers face.

**XX**

Dean sat in the cafeteria when lunch time came around, surrounded by envious guys, wanting to know how he got girls so easily.

"It's simple really.." He smirked. "It's all about the looks." He loved himself.

"Do you think I have a chance with Jennifer Grady?" One of the uglier looking sixteen year olds asked. Dean chuckled.

"With her tits? Not in a million years. She only goes out with eligible bachelors. Like myself." He shrugged, eating his food.

"Okay, new kid. _Whatever_." One of the other guys said, digging in to his food. Dean just smirked and ate more. Highschool was always easy for him.

**XX**

Sam was in english class, his teacher Mrs. Lyon talking at the front of the room. He couldn't focus, he was so soar from last night. He should've stayed home.

"Samuel? Are you alright?" He looked up and saw Mrs. Lyons standing over him concerned.

"Just Sam.. And I'm fine."

"You don't look fine." She noticed the bruises on his neck. "What happened?"  
"Uhm.. Bike accident." She hesitated.

"Seems like a lot of bruises for a bike accident.. Why don't you step in to the hall with me for a moment?"

"Uh..Okay." Mrs. Lyons took him in to the hallway and closed the door to the classroom.

"I've seen you doubled over a few times during class, you're stomach also got hurt?"

"Yeah."

"I should take you to the nurse, you obviously need a few band-aids."

"I'm fine!" He said quickly.

"It's okay, Sam. Just come with me." His panicked eyes widened. They couldn't see his bruises. It wasn't like he could tell them the truth. The entire way to the nurses office he tried to convince his english teacher that he was okay, but she wouldn't have that.

"Mrs. Gold?" She asked the nurse.

"What is it?" She smiled, getting up.

"We have a student here. He has a lot of cuts and bruises and I think he needs a few band-aids."

"Of course!" She sat him down. "Sure are a lot. What happened to you, kid?"

"I fell off my bike.." She gentley put pressure on his stomach and he lurched back away from her touch.

"It's okay. What's your name?"  
"Sam.." The seventh grader answered, unsure. He wished Dean was there. The nurse slowly lifted his shirt up a bit from the bottom to take a close look at his cuts. Mrs. Lyons and Mrs. Gold both gasped.

"I'm getting the principal.." Mrs. Lyons took a few steps back and quickly walked down the hall.

"Why do you need to get the principal?" Sam asked worriedly.

**XX**

Dean answered his phone, just having finished his lunch. "Dad? What's up?"

"I have another job to do. I'll be back in a week or so." Dean leaned forward.

"Do you need help?"

"I got this one, Dean. Stay with Sammy. Just a werewolf."  
"_Just_? Dad?"

"It's okay, Dean. I'll be back soon."

"Okay..Bye."  
"Bye, son." John hung up, Dean pausing before he also did.

"You okay, dude?" One of the guys asked.

"I'm fine." Dean said, shaking off the bad feeling he had. Something was wrong... His ears perked up when he heard the intercom.

"Dean Winchester to the main office."

"Ooh, what'd you do?"

"Nothing.." He responded.

"Well, you're obviously in trouble for something. Good luck, man." Dean got up and walked out of the lunch room and towards the main office. He peaked through the small window to the principals office and saw Sam arguing with the principal and nurse. He opened the door and walked in, shutting it behind him.

"What's up?" He asked suspiciously, looking towards Sam questioningly. The boy just looked down in shame. "He do something wrong?"

"Take a seat, Dean." Mr. Travis, the principal said softly. He sat down beside Sam, who still wouldn't meet his eyes.

"I tried calling your father a few times. He didn't pick up. Where is he?"

"He's away on business.." Dean said, not sure where this was going.

"According to our records, you've been staying at the Outlook motel." Dean shifted in his position on the chair.

"Just for now.. It's not permenant."

"Your father is leaving you at the motel while he's on business?"

"He's a busy man." Dean leapt to his fathers defense.

"How many times have you moved around?" Mr. Travis asked carefully, seeing the shocked, yet angry expression on the sixteen year olds face.

"A few.."

"Really? On the records you've moved around quite a lot. To different motels."  
"Why the hell am I here?" Dean said quickly, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible.

"It's been brought to our attention that your brother has a lot of cuts and bruises." Mrs. Gold spoke up. Dean scoffed.

"He fell down the stairs."

"He told us he fell off his bike." Mr. Travis countered. "Dean, if you and your brother are being abused in anyway it's our responsibility to help. And your responsibility to protect your brother from that kind of danger." The principal explained, trying to feed on his brotherly instincts. Dean narrowed his eyes, his teeth gritting together.

"Just what are you implying?"

"It's just a question." Mr. Travis put his hands up, backing up in resignation.

"Well stop asking. I think I should get back to class."

"Right." Mr. Travis watched the two boys leave, uncertain, but determined.

Once in the hallway, out of earshot, Dean turned to Sam.

"What the hell was that?"

"I.."

"How did they know you were injured!"

"Mrs. Lyons saw me in pain and took me to the nurse.. And Mrs. Gold saw.." Dean stared at him.

"Unbelievable. Just great Sammy, just fucking wonderful! If they look in to this further, they could take us away from dad!" Sam's head snapped up. He hadn't realized how serious this was. He just thought he'd be in trouble.

"What?" He whispered.

"You heard me! God, you should've just stayed hoome!" Dean shouted, storming past him and back to lunch. Sams eyes watered and he quickly blinked them away. Taken away from their dad?

**XX**

After school, when Dean and Sam took a taxi back to the motel so they didn't have to tell their father right way, they saw two police cars out front. Sams eyes widened in fear and Dean, without hesitance, ran inside the motel. Once Sam could feel his legs again he followed.

"Dad?" Dean asked, eyes looking back and forth between the two cops in the room. John shot his sons a look, then looked back at the police.

"Nice to meet you boys. You must be Dean, and you Sam." The female cop said. "I'm Officer Patterson, thats Officer Brown." She introduced.

"What's going on?"

"I'm sure your principal spoke to you two earlier." Dean already hated her. She was talking to him in a tone as if she was talking to a narrow minded toddler. John sat on the edge of the bed, silent.

"Right.." Dean glanced at Sam, sending him a glare, satisfied when he shrank back.

"Why don't you take a ride with Officer Brown to the station, and I'll take Sam here over there."

"Why do we need to go to the station?" Dean said roughly, taking a defensive stance.

"Take it easy, kiddo." She smiled, trying to seem comforting. "We just wanna ask you some basic questions, nothing much." Dean snorted in disbelief.

"And how come you don't want my brother and I in the same squad car?"

"It's not that we don't want you in the same car just.. standard procedure."

"You must think I'm stupid." Deans lips pursed in anger.

"Dean." John scolded in a raspy voice. He was clearly very upset with the two, but also worried underneath that cold exterior. The nurse must've seen Sams bruises from the spirit. "Just go with them." Dean looked at him, but slowly nodded. Giving one last glance at Sam, he followed Officer Brown to one of the cars, Sam silently following Officer Patterson.

**XX**

Dean was quiet as the car started up. He had to sit in the backseat like some sort of criminal. Brown glanced at Dean through the rearview mirror. He seemed to be the tougher between the two cops. It looked like they were going for the good cop, bad cop routine. After all, the allegedly nicer one was with Sam.

"You alright back there?" Brown questioned. He didn't answer, he just glanced out the window, watching the trees fly by. "You must know what's going on."

"You're going to ask me if my father beats my brother and I, aren't you?"

"Hey, hey hey.. No. We'd never make an accusation that serious without hard proof."  
"But you're looking for it, aren't you?" Brown shifted in his seat, turning the car right.

"We just want to make sure you kids are safe."

"Listen carefully, officer. My father is a great man."

"Your mother died in a fire, correct?" Deans eyes almost lit up in flames he was so angry. How dare he bring up his mother. He gritted his teeth together and Brown continued. "I don't mean to upset you. But.. there's no actual evidence on how the fire started. It could've been arson, and for a while your father was a suspect. But the police found nothing and let him go. Now you're brother goes to school with cuts and bruises covering him, he says he fell off his bike, you say he fell down the stairs. Which is it?"

"Both." Dean said quickly. "He fell off his bike, then being the clutz he is he later fell off his bed." Brown licked his lips.

"If you're father is doing anything, we can protect you. You don't have to cover for him."

"Are you really questioning _me,_ a _minor_ without a parent or attorney present?" Brown shut up after that. Dean hated cop shows, but his brother was pretty smart so he'd picked up a thing or two from him.

**XX**

Once they arrived at the police station, Dean was seated in a small room, where people were questioned about things such as crimes. Mostly just criminals were brought in to that room. Nothing aligned the walls, to keep them from getting distracted or thinking of an alibi. The only objects in the room were two chairs, a small table and a lamp to keep the room bright.

"Take a seat." Brown spoke, cautious. Dean sat down, tapping his fingers against the table. "I'll be back." He walked out of the room, Dean glancing at the door, then over at the large mirror on the wall. He knew it was double-sided. So the police could hear and see what was happening in the room. He wondered exactly who was watching. Two officers, two men, walked in the room and closed the door tightly, one sitting down across from Dean, the other standing beside the one sitting.

"I'm detective Peabody. This is my partner detective Eaden." The sitting one said. The sixteen year old leaned back in his chair, narrowing his eyes.

"Don't I get an attorney or parent present?"

"That's only when your in trouble. You're not. Your father is the one who needs a lawyer."

"This is going to trial?" Dean whispered in solid, heavy fear, making his stomach almost turn to lead, it felt so heavy.

"We're going to try and keep it from getting there. But there's a possibility." Eaden said, watching Dean's every move.

"What..? What would happen if my father was declared guilty?" Eaden and Peabody looked at each other.

"Your father would go to jail, your brother would be put in to foster care, and you'd be kept at a shelter for teenagers until you turn eighteen.. No one really adopts sixteen year olds. But in the rare case someone does want to adopt you, then you will be." Eaden explained, stopping at Dean's swollen look. Dean blinked a few times, and looked down, his breath shaky.

"It's okay if he hurt you. You can tell us."

"HE DIDN'T!" He pounded his fist against the table, standing abruptly. "How dare you! How dare you try to shove my father in to a prison cell and take my brother from me! You're the bad guys! You're sick!" He spat. Peabody stood up at the outburst of violence, and looked solemn.

"Violence runs in families. If a father expresses it, the son often does as well." Eaden said in a low voice. That only seemed to make him angrier. To calm himself, Dean took a few deep breath, and took a few steps back, clenching and unclenching his fists.

**XX**

"How's your relationship with your brother?" Patterson asked Sam. He was sitting in a childrens room full of toys and colorful objects. It was how they got the kids to talk, by putting them in comforting sweet rooms. Sam still kind of liked toys, but this was just ridiculous. He wasn't stupid.

"Good." He shrugged.

"It must be hard not to have your mom around, hm?" Sam looked down at the table. "It's okay to talk about it. I'm your friend." He looked back up and she gave him a small smile.

"I don't remember her."  
"That's understandable. You were about.. six months old at the time?" She cleared her throat. "Do you like your dad?"

"Mhmm." Sam nodded, unsurely. He didn't wanna make Dean madder then he already was. What was he supposed to say?

"How is he with Dean?"  
"Fine." Sam said quietly. "Same as with me."

"And how is he with _you_?"

"I don't know.. Like a dad."

"Do you have fun with him?"  
"Not really. I have more fun with Dean."  
"What's your brothers idea of fun?" Sam thought for a moment.

"Meeting lots of girls." Patterson smiled a little, but her business face clouded her sweet expression. She leaned forward to Sam.

"Has Dean or your dad ever made you feel uncomfortable?" Sam furrowed his eyebrows.

"No."

"Are you sure?" She pushed.

"I guess when they're mad at me." He just wanted to go back to the motel with his family and get out of the police station.

"What do they do when they're mad at you?"  
"Yell."

"It's okay to be honest, no ones going to hurt you here. Has either of them ever hurt you in anyway..?"

"Never!"

"How did you get those bruises?"  
"I fell off my bike!"  
"Dean told us you fell off the stairs. We can help you, Sam."

"Leave me alone!" He shouted. Patterson sat still for a moment.

"I'll give you a moment to think." She got up and walked out to discuss matters with the others. Sam sat, clearly upset. He just wanted to leave. He heard a rattling noise coming from the vent, and looked up at the ceiling, the vent above him. Nothing was there. He saw black smoke leaking through the vent and he widened his eyes. It was a spirit.

Sam didn't have the tattoo that stopped him from getting posessed yet. He wasn't supposed to get it until he was fifteen, like Dean had. And spirits and all kinds of mythical beings wanted revenge. They wanted John Winchester out of their way.

"No!" Sam screamed, right before the smoke lurched forward and engulfed him. He blinked a few times, his eyes pure black, then fading back to green. Not!Sam grinned wickedly. Soon John Winchester wouldn't be killing anymore of his kind, and others like him. Patterson ran back in.

"I heard you scream."

"I was just scared." He stood up and turned to face her. "I think it's time I come clean about my father.."

**TBC**


End file.
